


urban matrimony and the coffee arts

by pentaghastly



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/M, also kyle ron is an annoying emo boy writing his manuscript in the back corner, he's just lucky rey likes dorks, just for Realism, no one asked for this but ur all getting it anyways, poe drinks super sweet coffees and rey is disgusted, poe is smooth but in an embarrassing way, this is a mess? the fluff is as tooth-rotting as poe's double sweet latte
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 14:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13101672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pentaghastly/pseuds/pentaghastly
Summary: It had, for the most part, happened by accident.See, once upon a time Rey had ran the fuck away from her foster home because shecould, and she’d done what all new to Phoenix, recent graduates without a cent to their name did:She got a job at a coffee shop.The story continues, and continues, and continues, and towards the end of her last shift of her second week on the job it comes to a dead halt whenhewalks into their shop.(alternatively titled:Poe Drinks his Coffee Disgustingly Sweet, but He Still Thinks Rey is Sweeter.)





	urban matrimony and the coffee arts

**i.**

It had, for the most part, happened by accident.

See, once upon a time Rey had ran the fuck away from her foster home because she _could_ , and she’d done what all new-to-Phoenix, recent graduates without a cent to their name did:

She got a job at a coffee shop.

So the story starts with a shitty part time job at a cafe filled with pretentious hipsters and moody arseholes writing their soon-to-be-rejected novels and drinking only black coffee, and it continues much the same way for the majority of the time that she’s there. Rey makes the coffee - even if morally objects to it on the grounds that it sounds _disgusting_ \- and she acts like this is exactly the dream that she’d had in mind for herself when she’d fled England and wound up in the Arizona desert.

For the most part it isn't too bad, not at all. Her coworkers are positively delightful, for the most part, and her shifts were late and long but they were better than sitting at home alone. It was _better_ , and even though it wasn’t quite home Rey thought that it could be, eventually. She’d thought she’d read somewhere that home was what you made it out to be, and even though she still kind of thinks that that’s a pile of bullshit she _also_ thinks she’s willing to try. When she’s sitting in the break room with Finn shooting whipped cream directly into their mouths, it seems like it might actually be close.

Even customers like Ben (“ _Ren,_ ” he had corrected her with a snap one day, sounding more like a petulant child than anything else, and she hadn’t bothered asking what kind of ridiculous name that was) can’t bring down her spirits - and the gods know that they certainly try.

It’s fine. It’s not a life, but it’s _fine_ , and she can make it one eventually.

The story continues, and continues, and continues, and towards the end of her last shift of her second week on the job it comes to a dead halt when _he_ walks into their shop.

 

**ii.**

The first thing she notices about him is that his smile is… _gorgeous_. So much so that she almost forgets she’s supposed to be working, not drooling.

The second thing: his coffee order is ridiculous.

“Sorry,” Rey shakes her head, an attempt at clearing out the haze that his eyes have cast upon her, “can you repeat that? It sounded like you said a double sweet caramel macchiato, but that can’t be right because -”

“No, you got it the first time.” He doesn’t look bothered by her disbelief - if anything he somehow manages to look even more pleased than he was before. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. Besides, if I’m going to order a drink I need to make sure that it’s one as sweet as I am.” 

He _winks_. He actually fucking winks _winks_ , and Rey isn’t one hundred percent certain that there aren’t hidden cameras around the shop; he honestly can’t be real.

She’s not going to let him make her smile, she _won’t_ , but even as she assures herself that she absolutely isn’t going break to she can feel her face betraying her. It’s not so much what he said that’s making her nearly laugh as it is the look on his face now that he’s said it - he looks like someone who’s all-too aware of the fact that he’s making a complete arse out of himself but who also knows it’s far too late to take it back, and Rey can’t tell if she respects him for his self-awareness or if she just thinks he’s completely out of his mind.

So she looks at him, a bit harder this time, and determines that he doesn’t look like he’s crazy. Even now, even looking half-embarrassed and half-pleased, there’s still something incredibly… _magnetic_ about him. Idiotic jokes and all, Rey can bet that he’s the sort of person everyone must want to be around.

Still, Rey’s not going to make it easy for him. It’s against her programming to make anything simple for anyone, particularly for men. She’s quite proud of it, really.

“Has that line ever worked out well for you?” 

“It wasn’t a line,” he insists, and Rey thinks, ‘ _bullshit_ ’. 

Thinks, but not says, because saying that to a customer could get her fired. “It was definitely a line, and that’s not answering my question.” 

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“I’m going to go ahead and say no, then.” The man doesn’t look offended, if anything just amused, and she taps her black felt marker on the cup impatiently. Staring at pretty, stupid customers isn’t going to earn her any tips. “Can I assign a name to this monstrosity of a drink?” 

He tells her it’s _Poe_ , and she tells he’s the first Poe she’s ever met, and he tells her he likes the way she says it.

“Enjoy your drink, Poe,” she says, not trying to stop her nose from scrunching up in disgust even as she passes it over to him. Even from a distance she can smell the sugar wafting towards her, and it's almost sickening. “If you're able to, that is. And when you don’t, because you _won’t_ , don’t forget that you’re the one who asked for it.” 

When Poe winks at her again on his way out of the shop ( _again!_ ), Rey’s prepared. She almost positive that she doesn’t blush anywhere near as much as she had the first time.

 _Poe_.

Rey doesn’t think she’ll be forgetting it the next time that he comes in - and not just because of his silly drink, and not just because of the five dollar tip he’d left her when she wasn’t looking.

She doesn’t think she’ll be forgetting it because she sure as fuck can’t bring herself to stop thinking about it for the rest of the day, about him and his dumb smile and his coffee order that was almost as ridiculous as he was. She’d certainly _like_ to forget that any of it happened, but apparently having a conversation with Poe is like staring directly into the sun - bright spots linger on her eyes for hours after she’s turned her face away.

(If anyone asked her Rey would say _no_ , she hadn’t watched him through the window after he’d left, and she certainly hadn’t swooned when he’d bent down to give his adorable little orange dog a forehead kiss and scoop of whipped cream to lick off of his finger.

She’d say no, and she wouldn’t even feel a bit ashamed for lying.)

 

**iii.**

“ _So_.” The way that Finn slides up to her the next morning makes her nervous, the look on his face even more so. Just a few weeks and she already knows him well enough to read his every expression - but then again, he does have a tendency to wear his heart on his sleeve. “I hear you met Poe last night.” 

“You heard from _who_?”

“From him, obviously.” 

Why this is obvious is an absolute mystery to Rey, and she’s sure her expression must say as much - or, at least, she hopes that it does. Rey’s not quite like Finn, having to work quite a bit harder to in order for the mask that carefully guards her features to be able to slip, but she’s sure that the pure befuddlement she’s feeling now must read clear as day to him, or anyone with a working pair of eyes.

Apparently it reads from a fair distance away too, because before he can try to explain himself Rose jumps in to answer from two tables down. “Oh, Poe and Finn are _obsessed_ with each other. I’m surprised he even came into the shop on a day that Finn wasn’t working; normally he just comes in here so the two of them can gossip.”

“He was on his way to meet me,” Finn shrugs, as if this explains everything. “That, and I _might_ have told him about a cute single girl that I work with. Possibly.” 

“ _Finn!_ ” She doesn’t know whether to be offended at the obvious set-up or flattered by the compliment.

(Both, perhaps? Both feels good.)

“You liked him though, didn’t you? Bet you wouldn’t be this worked up about it if you didn’t.” Clearly befuddlement isn’t the only expression reading on her face - embarrassment must be too, and Rey can’t resist smacking him with her dish towel as an attempt to cover it up. “ _Hey_! Violence isn’t going to change the fact that you’re clearly all riled up for the Poester.” 

Rose is nodding sagely in the background, and Rey has to resist the urge to throw something at her too. “Finn’s got a point, Rey. I haven’t seen you blush this hard since Han Solo told you the coffee you gave him was ‘ _not complete shit_ ’.”

Now _that_ had been a day. She’d take a top-tier pilot over an annoying customer any time.

“I don’t like him,” she insists, but the words sound weak to her own ears so she tacks on at the end, “His coffee order is repulsive,” just for good measure.

Still a weak argument, and based off of the way Finn goes back to fiddling with the espresso machine she knows he’s not buying it. Just over two weeks and he can already tell clear as day when she’s lying - that’s more than a bit worrying, but there’s also something comforting about it. No one’s ever known her like Finn does, because no one’s ever taken the time to try. Rey hasn't made it easy for him but that doesn't mean that she doesn't love it, even if right now (or most of the time, really) he’s being a massive pain in her arse.

“That’s too bad, because he couldn’t stop talking about you.” 

She’s not going to be forgetting _that_ any time soon either.

 

**iv.**

He comes back in less that two days later, another day that Finn isn’t working, but this time Rey’s prepared for him. This time, Poe isn’t going to knock her off her feet.

No one takes her by surprise more than once.

“What ridiculous concoction can I prepare for you today? As a warning, if you say anything triple sweet I might have to refuse service on moral grounds.” Even he can’t be so masochistic as to do that to himself, but Rey won’t put anything past him now. Poe strikes her as the sort of person who would order an even more absurd drink every time he enters the shop, just for the shock value.

With his hands held up as if in surender, for a foolish minute Rey allows herself to think she might actually have got through to him. “Just a green tea today, actually.” She’s moments away from expressing her delight when he ruins it all with a single point to the food case, adding on at the end, “Oh, and three cranberry bliss bars.”

 _Three_. If he didn’t look so genuine, so sweet, she might actually think he was just trying to fuck with her at this point.

“Please tell me these aren’t all going to be for you.” Her tone is almost begging, but his casual shrug tells her she isn’t going to get the sort of answer she wants. “I hate to have to be the one to tell you this, but I think you've got a problem.” 

“What can I say? I’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth.” That’s certainly the understatement of the year, and Rey’s about to tell him as much before he’s leaning over the counter and her words die in her throat. “And let me just say, I think you’re the sweetest thing in here.” 

It’s horrible. It’s worse than horrible - it’s the sort of thing that nobody in real life actually says, and it affirms the conclusion she'd come to the last time he was in the shop. Poe can’t possibly be real. Nobody real looks like him, nobody real exudes _warmth_ like him, nobody real smiles at her like he does. Most importantly, nobody real uses the worlds cheesiest pick up lines and somehow makes them sound like the loveliest things anyone has ever said, and yet he’s standing in front of her doing just that, acting as though it's nothing at all.

This time Rey doesn’t stop herself from breaking out into giggles, and he doesn’t bother to try and keep his open admiration off his face. That’s perhaps the thing she likes most about him: even with his confidence, Poe seems in pure disbelief that she’s not sending him out of the shop on his arse.

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“You love it.” 

Rey doesn’t have any retort for that so instead she smiles at him, full and bright, and tries not to read too much into the fact that he looks like he’s forgotten how to speak. 

(Tries, and fails.) 

“Finn told me you couldn’t stop talking about me.” She steps away from the counter and gets to work on his drink - they’re the only two people in the shop, a slow day to say the least, and so she doesn’t mind being a bit distracted. “He said you were _enchanted_.”

“ _Am_ enchanted. Present tense.” Rey can feel his eyes following her as she moves about behind the counter, and it only half throws her off. “What time does your shift end?” 

For a moment, Rey debates lying to him. She’s only been here for about three weeks, not even that, and not-quiet-three weeks is hardly enough time to know what sort of person she’s going to become. There’s a chance she could meet someone twenty times better than Poe, or there’s a chance that she could turn into a completely different person that she is now and they could end up hating each other, or there’s a chance they’ll end up hating each other _now_. Too many risks to consider, too much potential bad to outweigh the good.

But then she looks over at Poe, still smiling as bright as he had been before, and she notices the blush spreading up his cheeks and the faintest sliver of hope in his eyes. The sunlight’s hitting them just right and she realizes they’re not as dark as she’d thought before - there’s flecks of gold and green hidden in there too, and they look like something she could drown in.

So she says, “I’m off at nine,” and doesn’t bother hiding her delight when he says he’ll be there to pick her up.

 

**v.**

Poe keeps his promise, and even though closing up shop takes her longer than normal (she absolutely hates doing it alone) he doesn’t complain once.

She makes him a decaf mocha, double sweet, to tide him over, and this time Rey doesn’t make fun of the sugar content of his drink. It smells delicious, actually, but she’d never admit that out loud - her keeping her mouth shut is the greatest victory she’ll allow Poe to win.

They talk about silly things as she sweeps the floors, things like their favourite sports teams (he’s a Knicks fan; she only cares about Chelsea) and their favourite television shows (they both watch _The Great British Bake Off_ , to her surprise and delight). It’s a bit awkward, a bit unsteady, but the conversation still flows with a sort of ease that would almost frighten her if it didn’t feel so utterly right. Rey can’t even be surprised at how easy it all feels - nothing involving Poe surprises her anymore. 

He tells her about his friendship with Finn, about his dog Bee, how Senator Organa once called him ‘ _Son_ ’ and he’d almost burst out crying. She tells him about her foster parents, how they’d never let her have a dog, how she’s got a picture of Senator Organa taped to her mirror to give her motivation every morning when she gets ready for work. 

Rey tells him _everything_ , and she’s not even embarrassed about it. That must be a good sign.

“I can’t believe you haven’t even been here a month,” Poe says, and she’s inclined to agree - it does feel like much longer. She thinks that’s a very good sort of sign that she’s where she belongs. “Finn talks about you like the two of you grew up together.”

Rey hums as she works, sweeping the floors by his chair in the same rhythm as the music still filtering in through the speakers. “I’m lucky I found him. Lucky I found all of you, really.” 

She doesn’t even realize what she’s said for a few moments, but moments of silence from Poe are few and far between and she can feel the shift in the air. Rey stops what she’s doing to look at him - he’s much closer than she’d realized, but it’s a comfortable sort of closeness, and he’s staring at her like he’s got something very important to say but he’s lost the words. 

Poe shakes his head and takes another sip of his drink, and Rey thinks: _I hardly know him_.

She thinks she’s falling in love with the way he drinks her coffee.

(It doesn’t scare her as much as it should.)

“I’m lucky I found you,” she says, just to make her meaning clear, just to make sure that Poe knows he hadn’t read into something that wasn’t there - she’s been difficult, Rey knows, so she needs to be sure he’s aware she feels it too. “Even if your drinks are disgusting.” 

Poe’s smiling, as big and bright as the time they first met, and when he finally kisses her he tastes even sweeter than she’d imagined.

 

**vi.**

It had, for the most part, happened by accident.

See, once upon a time Rey had ran away from home and found herself a shitty part-time job at a coffee shop, and from there the story had continued in the best possible way.

She’ll thank Finn for it, eventually. 

She’s just got some other things she’d like to do first.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave kudos and/or a comment! sorry for the cavities but not really


End file.
